


Wilting

by MercurySkies



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Romance, Sickfic, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 18:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13686930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurySkies/pseuds/MercurySkies
Summary: 'Stepping outside the first thing that hits Shane, for the second time that day, is how fucking bright it is. It feels like his retina are being seared from his eyeballs and with no shades to shield them from the glaring light of the sun he may have to resign himself to possibly being more visually impaired than he began this dismal day. February 14th, the day of love, the day that the annoying couple everyone has as an unfortunate part of their social circle doesn’t even attempt to keep their bragging humble on every social network under the sun. The day that is so overly saturated with bright colours and hearts that even kindergarteners eventually get tired of their modge podge and glitter and go back to sticking assorted crayons up their noses.'





	Wilting

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick little sick!fic for Valentine’s Day partly inspired by the time I attempted a treat yo’self Valentine’s Day whilst sick and spent a good 10 minutes staring at dying flowers in a Tesco.

Stepping outside the first thing that hits Shane, for the second time that day, is how fucking bright it is. It feels like his retina are being seared from his eyeballs and with no shades to shield them from the glaring light of the sun he may have to resign himself to possibly being more visually impaired than he began this dismal day. February 14th, the day of love, the day that the annoying couple everyone has as an unfortunate part of their social circle doesn’t even attempt to keep their bragging humble on every social network under the sun. The day that is so overly saturated with bright colours and hearts that even kindergarteners eventually get tired of their modge podge and glitter and go back to sticking assorted crayons up their noses.

Speaking of noses, Shane feels as though someone has stuffed his full of soggy cotton wool. It itches with an impending sneeze and he rubs at it with the back of his hand as he stumbles down the steps from his office. He hadn’t lasted long at work before someone had clearly had enough of him looking like some sort of spaghettified sewer rat and ordered him home so that they no longer had to be confronted by their own mortality by looking at someone who was the literal embodiment of death warmed up. They’d ushered him out the door with a ‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ and a suggestion to spend the day off recuperating and ‘hey since it’s Valentine’s Day, treat yourself!’

Which is evidently how he finds himself in a small store with little to no recollection of how exactly he got there standing in front of a display of steadily wilting tulips and roses. They’re in a cardboard standee that looks how he feels: gross and slowly disintegrating. With a shaking hand he picks up a bouquet of purple tulips, what the fuck for he doesn’t know but he likes purple, and tulips aren’t roses so he plucks them from the stand and shoves them under his arm. Half of the bouquet is just made up of stems and the other half is comprised of blooms that are closer to brown in colour than violet. The one bloom at the edge that seems to cling to life, an almost pristine bud is a metaphor for his current state he thinks wryly, smiling to himself as he starts down one of the aisles.

He has no idea how much time has elapsed between entering the store and now but he winces as his items clatter onto the counter. He looks down at the assortment of things and tries to make out what exactly he’s selected. There’s the flowers, an assortment of chocolates, some chocolate milk, a can opener but a distinct lack of soup and what looks like Tylenol but his vision is fuzzy and he left his glasses at home so he can’t really tell.

“Last minute gifts for your girlfriend?” The guy at the counter asks. Shane replies with silence.

“Boyfriend?” When the question finally registers about a minute too late Shane can’t help but laugh gruffly in the guy’s face until he forgets what exactly they were talking about. He says something else that Shane doesn’t manage to catch. “Oh?” He hears himself say, his voice sounding as though it’s coming from underwater. He thinks the guy behind the counter repeats himself and Shane relies solely on autopilot and assumes this is probably the point in the transaction where he should get some money out of his wallet and hand it to him. He does just that and dazedly he registers that the guy is handing something back to him as a warm hand cradles his own and drops the change into his palm. Shane can feel himself frown and he drags his eyes up the length of the guy's arm and _by God_ is it a nice arm, to look at this strangely gentle cashier and immediately regrets it because the man is so gorgeous that he sucks in a sharp breath that catches in his throat and starts him on a coughing fit so violent it makes him dizzy. “Oh fuck. C’mon dude sit down, jeez you’re a mess.” The man mutters as cool palms press down onto Shane’s shoulders and he slides all 8 feet of his limbs down until he’s sitting on a chair behind the counter. “You’re the most sorry state I’ve seen in this store without drugs or alcohol being the culprit. Wait they aren’t are they?” Shane tries to laugh but it comes out as a rasping wheeze as he slumps over. “Sick.” He grits out and the guy nods looking convinced.

“Explains the Tylenol, doesn’t explain why you’re still standing. No offense dude but you look like a reanimated corpse.” Shane does manage to huff out a laugh at that and when the guy smiles at him Shane’s sure he can hear angels singing. “Yeah right.” The guy laughs. _Shit,_ he must’ve said that aloud.

“What’s your name Casanova?” The guy asks and Shane gives him his name in a slurred sounding grunt. “Well Shane, my name’s Ryan. Let’s see about getting you home okay?” The pretty guy disappears for what feels like hours but when he returns it’s with a set of keys in hand. He carefully loops Shane’s arm around his shoulders and that’s a bad idea on Ryan’s part because Shane is sure he smells like a cheese that is much too ripe with how sweaty he feels right now. The arm he wraps around his waist feels solid and warm and Shane wants to melt into it. They hobble together back into the blinding sunlight, Shane squinting and groaning at its rays as they make their way across a small parking lot. They stop at a small, silver car and Ryan slips from his grasp, awkwardly sliding Shane’s body to rest against the passenger side.

“This is a clown car.” Shane wheezes out, pulling the door open sluggishly and trying to wrangle himself inside as Ryan slides into the driver’s seat. “What? It’s my car.” Ryan says distractedly, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. Shane doesn’t remember giving him his address. “It looks like it was made by Fisher-Price.” He mumbles and Ryan’s answering laugh is so boisterous and bright that Shane swears he momentarily sees the face of God in the circular neon sign he can see out of the front window. Wow this fever is really hitting hard huh?

He must pass out momentarily because, he comes back around to Ryan shaking him gently, the passenger door open and his backpack and the bag holding his precious Tylenol hanging from his nice arms. Ryan laughs again and Shane’s sure he’s gonna get addicted to the soothing sound if he hears it again. “Okay big guy up you get. Let's get you inside.” He says practically hauling Shane from the car. He must’ve given Ryan his address or something because when they get to the front doors he’s pretty sure this is his apartment building.

Ryan stops at the doors, a hand still on Shane’s arm but it’s clear this is as far as Ryan is taking him. He hands Shane his bags “Here we are.” Ryan says and he sort of shuffles a little on the spot. “Well I better be heading back to work.” He adds and he turns starting down the steps. Maybe it’s the fever, maybe it’s the angels he can hear when the sun hits Ryan just right, maybe it’s fucking Cupid but Shane reaches out. “Wait.” He says, voice hoarse and Ryan swivels to face him eyebrow raised quizzically. “Uhhhh” Shane fumbles with the plastic bag and pulls out the wilting bouquet and one of the boxes of chocolates and thrusts them toward Ryan, almost hitting him in the face where he stands a few steps below him. “Here.” Shane says, attempting a charming smile that probably in actuality falls somewhere between demented and creepy. “Um thanks and Happy Valentine’s Day.” Ryan tentatively takes the sorry looking gifts from him with a lopsided grin and before Shane’s sluggish brain can even register the movement he’s bounding up the few steps between them and planting a fleeting kiss on Shane’s overheated cheek before jogging back down and across the parking lot to his car.

Shane almost slaps himself with how fast he moves his weighted arm to reach up and press a palm to his cheek. He stays like that as he watches Ryan drive off in his clown car, before turning and entering his building. Later, after he’s slept off some of his fever he wakes up desperate for sustenance. Whilst downing his tepid chocolate milk he discovers a can of soup that he doesn’t remember buying. Attached is a piece of paper with a note that reads. _Get well soon!_ Followed by a phone number.

_Okay Cupid, well played._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can hit me up here or over on [tumblr](https://mercury-skies.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
